Hot For Teacher
by Chelseadaggz
Summary: Robin Locksley, full-time pub owner and father, finds Roland's first day at school to be rather interesting for both of them. He soon finds himself as enamored as his son with the boy's new teacher - Miss Regina Mills. OQ AU, tagged as Parent-teacher verse on my Tumblr URL: Daggzandarrows, rating may change.
1. Chapter 1

**This was prompted to me over on Tumblr by the lovely Sometimesangryblackwoman. It has been something of a favourite of mine since I started it and I already have quite a few pivotal moments written so updates shouldn't be too few and far between. This first chapter is more of an introduction to Robin with a few of Regina's feelings mixed in. I will probably switch up POVs throughout chapters.**

 **I hope you enjoy :)**

* * *

He's wailing, absolutely balling his little eyes out as he clings to Robin's leg in complete desperation as though his father is about to feed him to the very lions he'd watched on the Discovery Channel the previous afternoon. He's not, he's simply bringing him to his first full day of school, a day he'd been excited about only an hour previously, had been jumping up and down on his bed full of all the energy in the world only a half hour before that talking of all the new friends he'd make and the new things he'd learn.

"Sweetheart," he tries, coos even as his son's cries grow louder, wise to the ways of his father, reluctant to be soothed when the frightening prospect of what lays within those brick walls and, Robin thinks, it does look somewhat daunting especially to a child who barely makes it to his hip but "look at all of the other children going in," _whose parents are shamelessly staring, idiots_. "They don't look scared do they?"

But his little boy's face is buried hard against his thigh, nails almost long enough to pinch as they dig in, prompting him to set an internal reminder to cut them when he gets home from school tonight, that is if he ever gets him into school to begin with. He's sorely tempted to tell him that it's okay, that they can go back home today and they can start again tomorrow but what will Roland learn from that? He knows well enough already that crying gets him nowhere, that it's okay to cry when he's sad or has hurt himself but not for his own gain. It's how Robin knows that this fear is founded in Roland's little mind, that maybe he is truly afraid of what today may bring.

It's as he's about to relent, to bend down and pull his boy into his arms and fight to make sense of the guilty conflict in his mind that they are interrupted by another's voice, a woman's, an American woman's.

"Hey there little guy," Robin's head snaps to his right, having been looking down at Roland and away from the school building, to find a brunette standing just in front of them, all dark hair and pretty features that have his eyes lingering a moment longer than what any would deem acceptable or…well, normal but, well, she's beautiful and, luckily for him, her focus is solely on the boy at his legs whose cries have dissolved into pitiful whimpers as he turns a glistening face from his father's legs to find a lady with kind eyes looking down at him and there's only a moment's pause as she smiles warmly at him before she is dropping down into a crouch, bringing herself to Roland's eye level before she continues. "Your first day too, huh?" she asks.

He feels Roland's grip falter on his leg for a moment, no doubt in confusion because, with all the tact of a 5 year old, Roland comments "you're too big to be in my class" and, thankfully, the brunette before them lets out a hearty laugh at that, a hand slapping gently at her thigh as she shakes her head at him in complete amusement and Robin wonders how she is able to balance in the shining black heels she wears.

"I am, aren't I?" she asks kindly, her eyes dancing with warmth and kindness leading Robin to his own conclusion about who she could be, only confirmed moments later when she says, "I guess I'll have to settle for being your teacher instead of your classmate then," and a very lovely teacher at that it seems from where Robin stands, in all of her gentle beauty, "would that be okay with you?"

It's only then that Robin looks away from her and down to his boy, or at the very least the mop of curls atop his head that he is not allowed anywhere near with a pair of scissors, he can only imagine the days to come in which he'll be washing paint and other materials from his boy's hair. It's only a few seconds before those curls are bouncing with the nod that Roland gives, one that has Robin smiling affectionately and the woman before them grinning as she holds out a hand to him.

"Excellent!" she exclaims to him when Roland brings his own hand up to hers, giggling when she shakes it far more than needed and continues with "my name is Miss Mills," and Robin can't help but hold onto the 'miss' in her name, "what's yours?"

"I'm Roland," his boy replies and, thank god, he sounds more intrigued than frightened now, has inched a little closer to his teacher, though Robin can't blame the boy, "and this is my Papa." He looks up with eyes still reddened but water free and grins at his father as the last vestiges of his tears disappear from his face altogether.

Dark eyes flick up to him then, her smile remaining as she releases Roland's hand with a gentle squeeze before standing to greet a suddenly uncharacteristically shy Robin with a different warmth than she'd shown his son because, well, he's an adult. "Hi," she holds out a hand for him too, it's warm when he takes it within his own, soft and smaller than he'd first believed but her grip is strong, her shake good and professional as she tells him, "I'm Regina."

"Robin," he gives back politely, his interest peaked when she, rather subtly, allowed her eyes to drop over him as he spoke, taking him in in the same manner he had when she'd first appeared and oh, that was most definitely interesting, only increased further with the reply she gave him before taking his son's hand and asking the boy to be her buddy for their first day of school together, which Roland gladly accepted, his boy was no fool it seemed.

 _"_ _I look forward to our first parent-teacher conference."_

* * *

"So," Ruby drawled as she came to stand beside him, her gaze on the pint glass she was tilting beneath the lager tap, beside the one Robin was currently using, though her focus is on him. "How're you doing without your little buddy today?" she asked with a smile he catches beneath the hair come loose from her ponytail. This shift has been unexpectedly, and mercifully, busy what with a random pick-up in the weather today despite it being early September, after an abysmally grey summer (bloody England) and he knows he has to organise something for all of his staff soon, a night out on him in thanks for working long, dragging shifts and having to deal with damn rude tourists but he's been distracted by 'big boy' uniforms and fruity scented gel pens that Roland just _had_ to have in his new Batman pencil case that will, no doubt, end up ripped and tattered by the time half-term comes around in a month and a half…but his boy was starting big school and the occasion had to be marked properly.

"Honestly?" he glanced at her with a raised brow, catching her chuckle before he turned back to begin tilting the glass upright once more, leaving a good amount of head on his customer's beer before placing it on the bar and moving to latch his magnified key onto the till, logging himself on. "I've been counting down the minutes until I go and get him."

She chuckled at that, telling her customer how much he owes before coming to stand behind Robin and waiting for him to finish getting change from the cash drawer, stepping into his place when he moves to finish his service. "You know," she sighed melodramatically as she tapped in the order, entered the amount of money given and catches the drawer as it comes sliding out towards her stomach, "you'll blink and soon he'll be moving into his uni dorm room, clapping you on the shoulder and fobbing you off" (the term still sounds wrong on her American tongue but he loves that about his head waitress, the way she doesn't quite sound right but belongs completely) "for freshers week, a new girl every weekend."

"Why would you even say that?!" Robin groaned as Ruby laughed, shrugged and headed off to give her customer their change. He shook his head amusedly before he looked to the large ornate clock on the back wall of the bar and muttered to himself, "only a hundred and nineteen minutes to go."

* * *

It was a week or two later when he got to see the beautiful brunette who teaches his son again, Roland having always met him outside of the school building whenever he picked him up. Bouncing with excitement at thought of getting to tell his father about his day, over-enthusiastic waving to the new friends he was making and his joy only increased Robin's, made the drop off every morning a little easier. He still missed his boy but knowing that he was happy, that his first day tears and fears had been unfounded

He looked up from the stock order list he'd been writing up with the upcoming heat-wave in mind (not a common occurrence when it came to typical English weather, nearing summer time or not), endless barrels for the local rugby team who seemed to favour his pub on a Monday evening after practice, sweating and cursing good naturedly, bottles upon bottle of red, rosé and white wine, ready-made cocktail mixers, little bottles of tonics, of ginger ale and of bitter lemon ready for the extra trade they tended to get with the warmer weather, the beach just a couple of streets over from where he was situated and of course the cartons and cartons of sweet juices for the children for when the families rolled in for the summer holidays (he does sometimes open up the kitchen for food orders when the place is busy enough and his pal John is able to pull a couple of shifts for him, just simple, cheap, good quality meals to fill bellies and keep patrons from getting too drunk) and so he's almost certain he may just have it right this time, that he's been able to guesstimate around about what he's going to need, when a voice steals his attention away.

"I'm sorry but…have we met before?"

His mouth almost drops open at the sight of her, her dark hair styled into soft waves that frame her face beautifully and fall to bounce about her shoulders, the early evening light streaming in through the windows giving her something of an ethereal backlight and if he'd already thought her heavenly, she is a damn angel tonight. She's waiting patiently for his answer, her dark eyes still searching his face, still attempting to place him and of course she wouldn't remember him, they'd only met the one time what with Roland's need to be a big boy and walk to and from class alone. She must meet tons of idiots just like himself every day, men drooling over her as they drop their children off to school but something in him has him wishing that she could remember him more than any other…it's foolish and juvenile to feel this way but it's in the privacy of his own mind so foolishness be damned!

He pulls himself together after a long moment, chivalry returning to him as he stands and lifts his arm, extending his hand out to her as he tells her "Robin," and she squints just a little as she tentatively shakes his hand before releasing it, the name possibly ringing one or two bells and he could make her wait, could leave her standing awkwardly before him as she attempts to recognise where it is she's seen him before but then, he's not that kind of man, never has been and so he tells her "you may remember the little monkey clinging to my leg a couple of weeks ago."

It clicks then, he watches as her eyes light up, as her posture seems to relax somewhat with the comfort of putting a name to a face, a boy to a father. "You're Roland's father," and she laughs because of course he is, the only people she really gets to see are either the children she teaches or their parents and, on the odd occasion, her roommate Emma if their paths should ever cross with the blonde pulling night shifts and she can see those dimples, the very ones that have her heart melting during the daytime and beating a little faster in the night it seems, though she would never admit that to any but herself.

He returns the smile she gives him, a quick nod of his head as he asks "It's Miss Mills, right?"

"Oh no please," she raises her arms, palms facing out as she tells him "I think you've far surpassed the age group that are required to call me such a thing," he laughs with her at that and remembers her name before she even tells him, "Regina," and yes, it's just as lovely as he had recalled, so befitting a creature such as she.

He's about to tell her just how lovely he thinks her name is but, well, he doesn't want to come off as though he is flirting, doesn't know what kind of boundaries she has about parent-teacher relationships (and yes, he is thinking of such things because it's his damn mind and she is possibly the most beautiful woman he has ever come across and so very sweet from what he knows of her from both their first meeting and his own son's stories of school.) so he settles for small talk instead. "So, what brings you here?" he indicates the general area of the pub to which she glances around with a small shrug of her shoulders before watching him place his clipboard down upon the table he'd commandeered that evening once the lull had set in and he'd had time to get away from the bar.

"I've always passed it on my way home," she begins, looking up at the ancient wooden beams lining the ceiling before looking to him again, "I thought it looked quite charming and wanted to have a closer look."

He smiles at that, grins somewhat proudly as he tells her, "thank you very much," laughing lightly when her expression moves from confusion to mild surprise as she asks _"you work here?"_ and he tells her "yes, of sorts" before adding "it's my pub."

Her lips part softly, and what full, luscious things they are as she takes another glance around, this time studying a little closer, looking a little more impressed, appraising as she compliments "it's really something."

He looks around too, looks over the certain kitsch quality to the decorations he'd procured over the years from family and employees alike who'd loved the place almost as much as he. He looks to the two behind the bar, laughing as they each fill orders, so in sync as Ruby tosses over a cocktail shaker to a grinning Will, keeping themselves and customers amused. He can tell that she feels what he does, the homeliness of the place, the safety and warmth of it. He can't help but ask "does this mean I'll be seeing more of you Regina?"

And he swears her smile will be the death of him as she replies with a coy "maybe," and almost kills him with the raise of an eyebrow as she adds "anything is possible."

* * *

"So," Will smirked as he continued wiping at the tables around that which Robin still sat upon, the door clicking shut with a shouted _"goodbye"_ from Ruby as she headed towards Belle's car barely visible in the darkness of night. "You gonna tell me who that pretty brunette was you were drooling over before?"

His head snapped up, his brow furrowed as he told his brother "I was not drooling," ignoring Will's rather immature _"was too"_ and explaining "she's Roland's teacher and was just a little surprised to find that I owned a bar, that's all."

"Mhmm," the idiot hummed in disbelief, standing straight and swinging the cloth back to drape over his shoulder, lifting a foot to rest upon the wooden foot rest of the stool in front of him as he leaned a little closer to Robin and asked "you sure that's all?" receiving only an eye roll and a _"finish closing up, I'm going to bed"_ from his brother as he pulled himself from his seat and began making his way to the back to begin the ascent up the stairs and to relieve John of his babysitting duties.

John, his best friend, had moved in with Robin and Roland not too long after Marian's death, his day shifts running the community centre meaning that he was able to look after Roland when his friend had to work late. Will slept over on the nights he worked the close and shared Roland's room. They were an unconventional little group but they worked and, in all honesty, Robin loved having them with him. One little ragtag family.

* * *

She found herself venturing back to Robin's pub quite often in the last few weeks, sometimes for a quick lemonade after work (she rather liked it fizzy, sometimes with pure orange poured in just like a fellow American, Ruby the barmaid, had suggested to her one hot afternoon – she'd loved it) and sometimes she'd bring work with her, marking and lessons plans that needed completing.

She'd caught little glimpses of him every now and again, had found herself watching him more often than not when he worked the bar, moving with practised ease and always smiling, always flashing those damn dimples that had her biting at the end of her pen, imagining what it would feel like the dip her thumbs into those indents. He was never not busy enough to stop by her table though, barely noticed her presence with his busy custom but there were times when she looked up, glancing over at him as she so often did, that she found him to be smiling over at her and she'd never be able to keep eye contact for long nor fight the blush that would colour her cheeks with his attentions.

He was handsome, something she could have coped with all on its own, admired him from afar, indulged in her own little after-dark fantasies and pushed them to the back of her mind when daylight came again but he was also kind, funny too it seemed for those around him always seemed to be tittering with laughter at the very least and a fantastic father with the absolute credit that Roland was to him. He misbehaved only on the rarest of occasions and never was it through pure naughtiness, simply chatting with his new friends too much or getting himself a little over-excited when he was given something of a task. He was a delight though, polite, thoughtful and so very like his father.

Tonight, Friday, was the first weekend night she'd ever spent here, had convinced her new friend and colleague to stop at her local (she'd picked up on the British slang rather quickly and smiled at the sound of it even if only in her mind) and so here they sat, catching up and everything and nothing.

"Hi," he sighed as she looked up at him, a little surprised at both his sudden appearance and the wine glass he'd placed before her, a large measure of red it looked like and she'd only ordered a small one for herself when she'd first arrived. Her mouth had fallen open with her surprise, her brow furrowing in confusion as she made to speak, made to ask what he was doing when he only continued speaking with that beautifully warm smile he'd flashed her the first time she'd found her way in here, as unintentional a find as it had been, "I tried to send a drink over to your table but" and there was that sigh he'd given her when he'd first drawn her attention, "the bartender took it to the wrong person so I thought I'd bring this one over in person."

That she hadn't been expecting, though the laugh that fell involuntarily from her still parted lips and the smile that widened on his face in response gave her the courage to reply "is that why Will looked a little shamefaced before?" because she'd seen him call the man aside, had watched the way in which his shoulder's had deflated at the same time as Robin's ire had. She'd smiled at the hand he'd laid on his shoulder, watched as he'd reassured Will about something, she hadn't known what it was at the time, only contributed it to Robin's wonderfully kind soul, before he'd disappeared into the back and the barman had continued on. "You weren't too hard on him were you?" she had no idea what to do with her hands, laying them on her lap felt a little like what her children must feel during class when she'd scold them gently for fidgeting. Instead she moved one arm up to rest upon the table with fingers gripping at the stem of her wine glass whilst the other came up to push errant strands of dark curls behind her ear.

Robin watched the gesture, his brilliant blue eyes tracing from her ear, to her nose, to her lips and then her eyes. He started a little, as though shaking himself out of something and the move had a smirk pulling at her burgundy painted lips. "Oh no," he smiled then, some of his charm bleeding back through as he joked back "he's a big boy, he'll get over it." He'd moved a foot up to rest upon the metal footstool that wrapped around the thin black bar of their table as he rested his forearm over his thigh, the hand of his other arm coming to circle his wrist as he smirked at her.

"Good," she replied and if it was a little breathy with his closer proximity, with the way his biceps grew more defined with the way he was holding his weight up, well, she wasn't going to take any notice of it as she teased "because he's become something of a favourite of mine," she was glad when he took the comment in jest, playing along with her as his eyebrows rose.

"Oh really?" he teased back and she found that she could lose herself in those baby blues, her smile fading only a little as he grew quiet, as lost as she was until the soft clearing of a throat had them both blinking out of their trance, the only thought in Regina's mind being a resounding cry of _shit!_

Her cheeks were flushed as her mouth dropped open slightly before she was giving Robin a small, shy smile and turning to look at a grinning Mel _but_ , she supposed, _at least I didn't invite Mary Margaret out tonight,_ something she'd been planning to do until she'd been intercepted in the corridors by an extremely stressed Mel, their friendship fairly new though Regina found she rather enjoyed the woman's company, certainly enjoyed her strong spirit until, of course, now. "Ehem," she cleared her throat with a small cough that verged on embarrassment with the way her friend's eyes were burning into her as she continued "Mel," she nodded towards the blonde, eyes on the fingers she had fidgeting with the stem of her glass once again as she then looked over at Robin, "this is Robin, he owns this lovely place" his dimples peeked out with his smile, _damn him,_ as he outstretched a hand to the blonde "Robin, this is my friend and colleague, Mel."

"Pleased to meet you," he told her, his eyes glancing over to catch Regina's before she was looking away from him again, cheeks tinting pink as he could only smirk before looking back to Mel with her reply of _"likewise,"_ and Regina could have died on the spot with her continuation of _"Regina's told me a lot about you."_

And she would have scolded her friend for the white lie, would have denied her claim if not for the warmth that shone within Robin's eyes when she was able to meet them again, able to hold them long enough as he ducked his own head with his shy smile before looking back up to her and he had to know Mel was lying to by the simple fact that she barely knew anything about him but he said nothing until he was dropping his foot from the rest and saying "enjoy your drinks ladies," his eyes lingering on Regina's for an extra moment, only losing contact when he had to turn around and return to work.

Both women were silent for a long moment, watching as Robin disappeared into the back room (neither missing the not so subtle glance he gave back before he was gone) before Regina heard "now I see why you insisted we come here." and, in all honesty, she was not even going to deny it.


	2. Chapter 2

He gets to see Regina again a week after she'd last been in his pub. Will had offered to open for him the previous night after he'd closed up and made his way upstairs with heavy limbs and eyes burning from exhaustion. One of his weekend staff had called in sick, a bug going around town that had made its way through the local college (and he hopes it dies out before it reaches young lungs – it's nothing serious, just a viral thing but every illness means days filled with terror for parents of young tots, every sniffle and every cough monitored closely) and so he'd had to work through from morning into evening with Roland spending most of his Sunday chasing Will from booth to booth, using John as a climbing frame and working his dimpled charms on his 'Aunty Ruby' to get a bowl or two more of ice cream than Robin would usually allow.

He'd grumbled, in his tiredness as he'd dropped down onto his bed with his brother darkening his doorway, that he absolutely hated not spending his weekends with his son. _"I mean, what's the use in weekend staff if I have to work it myself?"_ and it's not Ashley's fault that she got sick or Ruby's that she'd had to stay more hours this week with the sudden rise in custom and therefore needed at least one day of rest (even if she'd have gladly come back in and covered for him – she's a saint that girl) but he'd barely seen his son, had hardly any time to spend with him and had only really been moaning at him whilst he was in the pub, telling him to slow down, to quieten down or to calm down. He didn't want to be that Dad, the grouch, the workaholic, the distant parent. In the end, when he'd sounded almost close to tears in his frustrations, Will had told him to shut up and leave him the keys to open up for the morning.

He hadn't slept past what he usually did, waking a few minutes before his usual alarm time (he'd turned it off just before he'd gotten into bed the previous night but after so long of waking at the same time, he figured he must have his own internal alarm clock by now) and, incidentally, he'd had to go wake his brother when the idiot had almost snoozed away a half hour past when he should have been up.

He'd awoken Roland with a plate full of scrambled eggs and sausage, a little puddle of ketchup on the side just how his boy liked it (how they both liked it), _"your first PE lesson,"_ he'd stroked a hand through sleep mussed curls, taken in the drowsy pout on his boy's face (still not fully awake it seemed, his slow nod rivalling those of the drunks Robin often tended to at the end of a night shift) and just revelled in spending the first morning getting him ready for school since his first day.

The morning had been beautiful, crisp autumn air that nipped at their noses as they'd made their way to school in a matching set of winter hats, gloves and scarfs, Roland's small hand held tightly in his own as they'd talked of the day he had ahead of him.

He'd pulled Robin with him, when they got to the school gates, tugged on his hand and asked _"come see my cubby papa!"_ and with the cherubic face that his son had, who was he to refuse?

He smiled at parents he hadn't, regretfully and a little embarrassingly, had the chance to properly meet yet with his work schedule, nodding politely at fathers and mothers alike as they dropped their children off and he wondered what they thought of him, of his absence in this morning ritual of hanging up coats and hats and scarves (with the added PE bag for today) on their assigned hooks but he pushes his guilt aside in favour of his son's excitement as he pointed up at the laminated name card that had been attached to the wall above Roland's hook. "It says my name papa," he beamed with pride, the words a little muffled as he bit at the fingers of one of his gloves, tugging with milk teeth that Robin knows will be costing him the big bucks as soon as they start falling out.

"That it does my boy," he chuckled, walking over to him and helping him remove his gloves, handing them over for Roland to pack away until this afternoon and directing his attention back to his son's name card placed proudly above his metal coat hook, a line of tan wooden boxes below to store bags and trainers in. "Is that a fox?" he asked with a furrowed brow, turning to look down at Roland before looking back at it.

"It's Robin Hood papa!" he exclaimed with a furrowed brow and it's only when Robin looks closer, recognises it as the Disney cartoon he'd bought for his son over the summer that he remembered the character and grinned, touched that his son would cho- "Miss Mills chose it for me."

Before he can question his son further, ignoring the way his stomach stirred at the thought of her thinking of him, the very subject of his thoughts can be heard in the hallway, seen through the door-less gap in the wall that separates this small area from the corridor, from the chaos of school mornings. She looked beautiful, as always, with her hair pulled back into something of a messy bun, long, slightly curled strands framing her face. She wore no makeup, or none that he could see, and he supposed that was partly due to her job role but also the very fact that she didn't need any. Her sleeveless blouse was a royal blue, contrasted wonderfully with her skin tone and was tucked into a high-waist black pencil skirt covering legs wrapped in thick black tights. She wore black heeled ankle boots that gave her a little more height than he'd seen of her (she was very petite, slim but curved) and when she turned, the sight of her calves had him imagining those legs tensed around his waist, entirely inappropriate thinking considering where he stood.

He would have made his way over to speak with her whilst his son unzipped his coat and hung his things up, was about to when he heard her laughter and realised that she was not alone. He shifted to his right a little, enough to see past the separating wall and find a man to be laughing with her.

He looked to be a little younger than Robin, perhaps even a little younger than Regina herself but not by much. He wore sports clothes, the PE teacher Robin assumed, a whistle dangling around his neck and a football tucked under his arm. He wasn't a bad looking bloke (Robin too begrudging to think of him as anything more even though he knew him to be most women's cup of tea), his hair was a shade lighter than Robin's, his stubble not quite as scruffy, as well-groomed as the short curls that sat atop his head.

He seemed enamoured with Regina, his eyes only on her and, well, Robin couldn't blame the man for she was stunning but he couldn't ignore the lick of jealousy that fired within him when the brunette laid a palm upon his forearm, leaning a little closer to him with her laughter. It was melodious, a wonderful, joyful sound that would have lifted his spirit at any other time but this and she wasn't flirting, was completely innocent in her amusement and friendliness with her colleague but still, it stung.

"Miss Mills!"

The two in the hallway turned at the sound of Regina's name, her surprise morphing into a warm smile as she laid eyes first upon Robin and then upon the little boy who'd called out to her. "Good morning sweetheart," she greeted, making her way over to them, another glance at Robin before she dropped down into a crouch in front of Roland that the boy's father considered quite a feat taking into account the heels she wore, tapping a finger at the end of his nose and asking "are you all ready for your first PE lesson today?" When he nodded in confirmation, a shy smile as he twisted right to left in his bashfulness, she hummed an affectionate laugh at him before looking up at the man standing beside her, standing and looking back down to Roland as she told him "good, this gentleman here will be your teacher."

Roland looked from her to the man beside her as Robin did and he looked to the boy first, bending and holding out a hand as he greeted "hello Roland," with a friendly smile that widened even further when a little palm pressed against his own and he shook it, "I'm Mr Humbert."

"Hello Mr Humbert."

The man straightened out and offered the same courtesy to Robin, holding his hand out and giving his first name "Graham," and when he winced a little, Robin loosened his grip as he replied _"Robin."_

Regina was smiling at them both, running a hand through Roland's curls before asking "and how are you Robin?" with kind eyes and a brilliant white smile that had his insides twisting. She was so very beautiful in both appearance and soul.

"I'm well thank you," he replied with his own warm smile, the man beside her instantly forgotten as he fell into dark depths, "glad to have been able to bring him in properly for once."

She must have heard the underlying guilt in his tone for she was instantly laying her free hand on his bicep, squeezing at the muscle soothingly as her gaze intensified and she told him "we all have to work Robin, besides" she continued, "at least you actually _bring_ him every morning, even if I don't get to see your handsome face when you do."

Robin's heart stuttered in his chest before thudding so hard he almost feared she could hear it echoing in the school corridor though it appeared she was just as surprised as what had fallen from her lips as he was. The colour rising on her cheeks had him sobering enough to let out a breath of laughter that wasn't mocking nor malicious and had her biting at her lips as she managed a small smile, not taking her comment back much to his relief and her colleague's amusement it seemed if his grin was anything to go by. He dropped his head to hide it though, crouching a second later to engage his son in some more chatter and, surprisingly (to Robin at least), allowing himself and Regina some time before the first bell rang.

She was almost bashful though she didn't look away from him, her eyes never leaving his, her cheeks tinted pink and he couldn't help but chuckle again. "I must say Miss Mills," he didn't miss the way her eyes darkened a little at the use of her title, making a hopeful note of it, "I have missed seeing your beautiful face in my bar," and when she flirted back with a _"oh you have, have you?"_ his instant answer was "very much so" and was spoken with complete sincerity and he couldn't help but lean a little closer as his stomach fluttered and an invitation formed on his tongue, "would you like to-"

It was just then that the bell rang for the beginning of school, startling the two who had found themselves in their own little intimate bubble and forcing them to take a step back from one another. He chuckled as her cheeks flamed though he couldn't help the sliver of disappointment that tickled at his stomach as she bit at her lip before bidding him goodbye with shy eyes that could barely meet his own. They'd gotten themselves lost in quite a moment and in the middle of the school where other teachers and lingering parents roamed. None had heard, not even Roland for Graham was keeping him too lost in playful conversation about their upcoming lesson but still, it had been inappropriate for him to pursue anything with her on school grounds and so, with much hesitance, he too bid her goodbye with a flash of his dimples before turning to crouch before his son.

"You be a good boy for Miss Mills and Mr Humbert, okay?"

Roland rolled his eyes and it gave Robin something of a premonition of what the future was going to be like with a teenage curly haired boy stomping about the place, slamming doors and blasting out music. It had him shaking away the images before leaning forward to press a kiss to his son's forehead, breathing him in and praying that time would slow down even for just a little while. It wasn't until Roland's whine of _"daddy!"_ did he pull back with a breathy chuckle and an aching heart. His boy was growing too fast.

He stood, ruffled at his boy's curls, gave Graham a nod and Regina one last meaningful glance that she couldn't help but return and then he turned and left, wondering if he'd get to see her on his return for Roland. He hoped so.

It turned out that he didn't catch a glimpse of Roland's lovely teacher when he went back for his son at home time, feeling only a little disappointment that was quickly replaced with a flash of pride when his boy told of his PE lesson and the goal he'd managed to score against their opposing team (just a little class friendly between the children) and so the remainder of their walk home had been spent chatting about after-school clubs and weekend coaching sessions.

* * *

In truth, he didn't get much of a chance to think of Regina Mills until it hit just after 5pm and the brunette in question announced her presence with a bag dropped upon the bar top and her familiar scent reached his nostrils. He was smiling before he even looked up, the expression only growing when he found her to be doing much the same only she still held a little of that shyness that he'd glimpsed that morning.

"Good evening Miss Mills," he winked as he finished his stock list and pushed the clipboard to the side for a moment before leaning forward to rest his cheek upon the hand he had propped atop the bar with an elbow.

She shifted herself up onto one of the tall barstools, leaning forward herself with arms folded as she replied "good evening Mr Locksley,."

And he couldn't help but tease, "I see you've brought your beautiful face with you" and when she chuckled and laughed, dropping her gaze to her hands, "I thank you for that, this place needed a little prettying up."

She smirked, finally looking back to him with eyes that sparkled with mischief as she replied seamlessly, "I wouldn't say that," and when he cocked his head with a questioning eyebrow, she continued bashfully " _you're_ here."

He chuckled, as did she, both shaking their heads at the giddiness that had returned to them. "Why Miss Mills," he drawled on a light laugh, "are you calling me pretty?"

"Perhaps."

"Well I return the sentiment tenfold," he told her sincerely, still smiling but deadly serious because she was the most beautiful thing he had seen in a very long time, perhaps _ever_ but to save her the embarrassment of continuing, for he could see how hard she was taking accepting the compliment, he asked "what can I get you to drink?"

"Merlot," she replied somewhat relieved for the subject change as she dropped her gaze to her purse and began opening it, startling a little when a warm palm came to settle over the back of her hand.

"It's on me," he winked when she looked at him, moving away to pour the glass when her lips parted to object, chuckling at her somewhat fond comment of _"idiot,"_ and winking once more, thrilled to find her blushing, his heart skipping at just how much he was enjoying her company, at how much he _always_ enjoyed her company even though they still barely knew one another. He was glad that tonight was slow, that he was able to remain once he'd returned with her wine and leaned with folded arms atop the bar as she took a small sip, humming low in her throat in enjoyment. "Good day?"

She smiled pleasantly at the question, nodding gently as she told him "pleasant enough, yourself?"

"Better now," he flirted, unable to filter himself around her though she didn't seem to mind if her smirk was anything to go by. "I have to say though," she looked up with eyebrows raised in curiosity and a head tilted in encouragement as he grinned at her, "a fox?" and when she simply frowned at him, completely perplexed, he let out a breath of laughter through his nose and elaborated "Roland's peg, he said you chose it…"

Regina groaned, her eyes closing and her face scrunching in amused embarrassment as she swept a hand through her heavy side bangs before looking to him and saying "don't think too much on it, he couldn't think of an animal and I thought it fit well."

"You think I'm foxy then?" he wiggled his eyebrows at her, revelling in the loud laughter that rang out from her and finding his eyes falling upon her slender neck as her head dropped back a little. He couldn't help but wonder what she smelled like up close, what her pulse would feel like thundering beneath his lips and how her skin would taste. He was still lost in those kind of thoughts when she looked back to him and it was as though he held no control over his own mouth when, quite suddenly, he asked "go out with me?"

That sobered her, had her smile fading as her eyes widened slightly and she looked at him in surprise, her lips parted and words escaping her apparently.

"I'm sorry," he apologised instantly, guilt written all over his face for the uncomfortable position he had quite clearly put her in with the question. "I didn't mean to…It just came ou-"

"It's okay," she moved to place a palm over the top of his hand though she didn't meet his eyes, biting at her lip before telling him, "I can't though Robin," shaking her head softly from side to side, "it…" she sighed heavily and he took some comfort at the fact that this wasn't easy for her, despite the fact that he felt like fleeing in this moment, so very embarrassed, "it wouldn't be appropriate for us to…your Roland's father and I'm his teacher, it wouldn't be right."

He nodded for a moment before her words were registering in his mind and it had him frowning as he asked her "is that the only reason Regina? Because of your work?" and when she nodded, albeit reluctantly, he asked "would it compromise your job? Us two spending time together?"

She exhaled a long breath, only realising her hand was still upon his when his turned over to grasp gently at her fingers though she didn't pull away. In all honesty she didn't want to for the feeling of his thumb skimming the back of her hand felt wonderful. "No, it's not anything like that," her brow furrowed as she looked at their joined hands, "but how would it look if anyone were to see us? What would people think?"

"Would that really matter?" he asked, tightening his hold on her hand, completely mindful of those finishing their drinks around them as he told her "and if it did, we could arrange something more private, perhaps a night spent here, I could close the place for the evening and we could talk over drinks and food…"

"You'd do that?" she asked with a hint of wonder to her tone, eyes almost shimmering in the dim light behind him that shone upon her and he smiled, pulling a small one from her as he told her _"of course, whatever you want"._ She remained quiet for a few moments longer, thinking, deciding and keeping him in complete suspense before looking back at him through thick lashes and conceding with a warm "I would love to."

He was grinning from ear to ear at that, practically beaming and reveling in her shy laughter.

She looked at him for a moment longer, enjoying the happiness her agreement had brought out in him before asking "was this the reason for your little bout of jealousy this morning?" that had his smile fading somewhat and she couldn't help but laugh, daring him with her eyes to deny the truth of what had happened and when he didn't, when he only looked down at their still joined hands sheepishly, she chuckled, bringing her other hand to rest atop theirs and told him "you have no need to worry Robin, he's not my type."

"Oh?" he asked, a little playfulness coming back into those brilliantly blue eyes, "and just what is your type Miss Mills?"

To which she replied with a flirtatious wink that had him almost dropping to the floor, "I like my men foxy."


End file.
